Monday, 20 May 2013

True story: My aunt Maymee, loves babies. To her, all babies are unique beauties in their own right, regardless of creed, colour or gender. And it matters not, whether they look like a cross between Benjamin Button, or a drowned rat, she will always have an "aww, oh how cute", tucked away for them in her otherwise limited vocabulary... Apart from this one child that is. A child so ugly, that the sun refused to shine when he was outside and the birds would fly South early, just to get escape the horror.

One day Aunt Maymee notices the child's mother, whom she hadn't seen in a while and approaches her to say hello. The kid, being all of a week old at the time, was too much of a temptation for Maymee, who promptly peeked into the pram, removed his blanket and said...not one word. Nothing. Nada. Zip. The pressure was beginning to mount as the child's mother waited patiently for the appropriate affirmation as to the cuteness of her child and still she could not think of a kind word to say. The mother, smile now beginning to droop slightly, became impatient and looked a little upset. Not wishing to offend, Aunt Maymee thought hard to think of the perfect compliment and as she leaned forward, a smile upon her lips, all she could utter were the immortal lines "aww, what a lovely...pram".

My point? Well ladies, I'm here to tell you that the chances that your newborn will most probably look like a cross between a skinned pig and a hairless monkey, are pretty high. Very rarely will you push out from your battered womb, a child so beautiful that they will look like they've been fashioned from the laps of the Gods. Butterflies will not dance around the halo above their squishy heads and deer will not frolic gaily beside their cot, because your child will be one ugly mofo.

So if you are reading this right now and you're pregnant, there will be no getting away from the fact that your precious will probably look a lot like Gollum. All you Mothers who put those cute little bows around the mane of your child, STOP IT! Look at her, she's as bald as a coot, why the hell does she need to wear a bow? To stop her baby fat from getting into her eyes?? And all you who insist on blinging em out like a toddler Mr T, why would you even think to draw attention to what amounts to be the Phllsbury Doughboy?

I hate lying but time and time again, I'm forced to chew through my tongue to stop myself from screaming, "On my god, it's hideous! Kill It. Kill it with fire!" Instead I have to endure the ache in my face as I smile down at your 9lbs of obesity and tell you how cute they are. Newborns are not cute! They are shriveled wrinkled prunes who look like deformed dwarves trying to chew their own faces off and as such, should be kept out of the public eye...like lepers, or Paris Hilton. Once the wrinkles have ironed themselves out and they no longer resemble Mr or Mrs Potato Head, you can then parade them around to your heart's content but not before. So please mums, keep your ugly wombruits to yourself, because isn't there enough horror in the world already?

7 comments:

Dear Goddess of England,I want to give you a big ole' thank you for pointing this out, especially the part about the hair bows on bald babies. How about that little headband that has a puff of hair on each side attempting to resemble pig tails? You know the one uber womb from The Duggars-19 Kids and Counting uses? Exuse me but just thinking of uber womb made me vomit just a wee bit in my mouth. Years ago my girlfriend had the ugliest baby I have ever seen, I was in the delivery room and this child made Karl Malden look handsome. I saw him before his mother and was hoping to get to her so I could prepare her for what was about to be plopped in her arms always thinking "Well she loves him so maybe she can look past the ugliness". I didn't make it in time, by the time I got to her room there he was all swaddled in her arms. So now I am trying to think of something nice to say about the wombruit to cover the horror I was really feeling. When I got to the bedside she looked at me and said "You saw him before me, so don't even try to make it better, I know he is the ugliest child in the nursery, quite possibly the world" We spent the next hour laughing and at times making fun of the new baby. Now that is what I call a real mother, the kind that has the ability to look at a child she gave birth to and realize he was uglier than sin, no pretense there. Her only hope was he would outgrow it. He didn't.Kat

Goddess of England, I'm keeping that title!I had a thing for Karl Malden when I was younger..but then my only ambition in life is to defrock a priest, so the state of my sanity is questionable on that one.

As for the Duggars, (proof that there is no god)that poor child. That bow is bigger than her entire head! May as well just put a cloth over her head and call her 'Blanket.'

My own child, looked like a cross between a frog and Satan, red with these huge bulging eyes. I didn't know whether to throw him in a pond, or sacrifice a few goats in his honour.

Well I want to be Princess, not Kate though, she is pregnant and God knows that is the last thing I want, another kid hanging around sucking the life blood out of me.

The Duggars. You don't know if you want to laugh or cry. Now it seems like Josh and Anna are on the rise, they are on baby number 3 in 3 years. Yeah, but the REAL Blanket needed that, after finally getting to see him I am not so sure I would not have done the same as Michael and throw a blanket over his head. I KNOW I would have dangled him over the balcony, there is always that one chance you might lose your grip.

Thank God you didn't throw him into the pond. All mine have water names River, Creek and Lake, he could have shown up on my door and I would have had to have named him Pond.Kat

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Dispelling the myth of the perfect parents and children in our own way. There are four of us, Aede Mig, Kat, Joy and Conchetta. We write what we feel, like it or not. We might call each other out because we don't always agree or just let it slide. Depends on how much wine we might or might not have had on that particular day. We don't have perfect children, we don't have perfect lives and we don't believe anyone else does, we are just brave enough to admit it.